


Genesis

by failbender



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Gen Work, Missing Scene, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:11:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failbender/pseuds/failbender
Summary: 2,000 words, un-beta’d. just me stubbornly continuing to add things to the imo lackluster Into Darkness ending.





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> originally written on my tumblr here

“I wanted to thank you.”

Jim has been out of the hospital for three days now, but the majority of his time has been occupied with Starfleet Brass, debriefing him and select members of his crew regarding details about the battle between the  _Vengeance_ and  _Enterprise_ before the former of the two found its way into the streets of San Francisco, literally. The sessions had been mostly redundant, as Spock was, as ever, efficient with his reports of the event that he’d submitted prior to Jim’s waking up, but that’s red tape for you, the captain figures.

John Harrison, Jim discovered shortly after coming to, had been forced back into cryo and locked down with the rest of the Augments with the highest and impenetrable of security systems – Starfleet’s words, of course, but Jim supposed they would have to do. The idea of a repeat performance with any one of the superhumans was one Jim did  _not_ like to entertain, and it was with this in mind that Starfleet had unanimously agreed to give the  _Enterprise_ and her crew some well-deserved shore leave, right here in San Fran should they choose to stay local.

It’s probably the worst decision Jim’s ever heard in his life. As much as he’s been utterly  _exhausted_ from everything that’s happened,  he finds himself anxious beyond belief – downright antsy, really, likely from such a long time forced by a particularly cruel and hypospray-happy southern doctor into bedrest. Or perhaps it’s from being grounded, especially when he considers a certain lovely chair he has to get back to. Once the  _Enterprise_ is re-commissioned that is, and Jim’s face goes sour at the mere thought of his ship, their ship back inside a junkyard where he can’t even look at it. Longingly or otherwise.

It’s been a very depressing couple of days.

So it’s exactly why Jim is happy to find himself on a park bench on a bright, warm day, enjoying a greasy foot long hot dog with none other than Lieutenant Uhura and Carol Marcus. It hadn’t necessarily been a planned outing – well, Jim hadn’t been part of any plan, that is, his meeting up with them was simple coincidence. The women had their arms lined with various different shopping bag handles (items ranging anywhere from high heeled shoes to prominent medical journals) and had apparently just parted ways from Officers Madeline, Darwin, and Rand before the leftover duo figured they may as well grab something to eat while they were still out. Apparently after everything that happened, they had collectively decided they just needed some god damned girl time, as Uhura put it.

Jim can only agree. And not in the way he usually prefers his own ‘girl time.’

Their company is definitely welcome after all of the stern faces around the tables at yadda yadda important Starfleet meetings, and he’s grateful as hell to see some  _normalcy_  for a change. He actually wishes, briefly, that he could have joined them sooner, if only just to carry their bags and comment on colors and the latest fashion. At least it would have given him something to  _do_.

The captain wipes at the side of his mouth with his thumb before glancing up at Carol. “There’s no need to thank me for anything.”

“Oh, my gratitude is not for what you think,” Dr. Marcus says quickly, eyes sharp despite the levity of their conversations thus far. She takes a moment to fold the napkin she’d been using on her lap to place it instead atop her leftover food. It’s bizarrely precise, almost clinical considering it’s a picnic. She meets Jim’s eyes again after. “You already have enough commendations and praise for your excellent service in the  _Vengeance_ battle, do you not?”

Jim’s return smile is a bizarre mixture of pride and embarrassment that only he could manage, as is the slight nod accompanying it, because Carol and Uhura both know – that is, nearly anyone who is a part of the  _Enterprise_ crew knows damn well Jim did what he did not for the sake of medals and acclaim, but for them, for each and every living soul part of his crew, and for the lives they’d lost leading up to it— and he hadn’t exactly intended on living to tell the tale.

“In that case, I’m afraid you’ll have to enlighten me, Doctor,” Jim says, and he’s actually pretty curious about what she might have to say. He eyes at Uhura for any type of clue (he sort of hopes to any remaining spiritual whosit that he did  _not_ say anything crazy, embarrassing, and/or life changing to Carol while drugged out on whatever the hell Bones put him on after the transfusion) but his lieutenant offers him nothing, simply looking from him pointedly back to Carol.

“I suppose you could say that you’ve inspired me.” It’s not exactly a surprise that this is when her gaze falters, dropping from Jim’s face to the napkin barrier she’d placed between her and her cold fries. “It’s—it was an idea I once had, the very reason I became a scientist in the first place, actually, enrolled at the Academy. It was put on hold when I discovered my father had thrown himself into arms manufacturing, and I thought I ought to do the same, in my own way, if I ever hoped to discover what he was trying to do.”

“You weren’t a weapons specialist initially?” asks Uhura, apparently as surprised by the revelation as Jim. Carol merely shrugs in response.

“I tackled it as a second major the moment I could. I’m a quick study; I feared I didn’t have much time to waste before my father used them, or worse.”

Considering she’s talking about the only blood relation Jim’s aware of, he’s actually somewhat surprised to hear how easily she utters her father’s name, and so without feeling one could believe she had Vulcan ancestry somewhere down the line. More likely, of course, she’s completely written off the memory of her father, the Admiral, and refuses to take personal responsibility for his sinister ambitions.

Jim has to admire her for that, almost as much as he envies her.

“Or worse,” is all Jim says.

There’s a smile in return, but it’s a sad one, and Carol’s eyes are downcast again. “I thought that maybe I’d been a fool, romanced into science by some crazy idea I’d had as a child, when all that seemed relevant to the chain of command was who could build the biggest firearm, the toughest shields. Starfleet Sciences was quickly becoming a world I wanted no part in. But then you happened, Kirk.”

“I get that a lot,” comes the instantaneous reply, because Jim feels out of his element enough to pull up his bravado like a worn, comfortable jacket. Uhura rolls her eyes so hard Jim can actually  _feel_ it – or maybe that’s just her kicking his shin under the picnic table.

“I’m sure you do,” continues the doctor, unfazed. “You were – I apologize, I have no idea how to say this delicately, but you were  _dead_ , Kirk. I saw you myself, lifeless on a slab in Medical, and yet here you sit today, good as new. Rebirth—that is, the notion of creating life from death is the very same the idea I’d had as a little girl.” She licks her lips, hesitating briefly. “I wanted to thank you for reminding me of that fact.”

Jim figures saying ‘you’re welcome’ is probably inappropriate, so instead he asks, “What exactly was your idea?”

“Space is certainly big, no one can argue that, but modern terraforming can only do so much in the face of overpopulation and food shortages. There are so few suitable planets in any given system for the process; I believed it to be entirely inadequate. I thought, ‘what about the ones no one can use? Why can’t we do anything about them?’ I wanted to be able to take a dead or dying planet, something inhabitable by any means, and revive it somehow, make it suitable for human life. Humanoid life, I mean. Somewhere for any type of people to live prosperously. I became a scientist to figure out how to make that a reality.”

“And my miraculous return is what got your scientific groove flowing again?”

“So to speak.”

Jim shrugs, dismissive. “In that case, you really should be thanking Bones. It was his idea.” He pauses. “And his tribble. Have you thanked the tribble?”

“Tibby,” Uhura interjects, startling Jim entirely because, with some measure of guilt, he’d forgotten she was even there. He frowns.

“Tibby the tribble? Really?”

“Tibby is short for Tiberius.”

“That actually makes it  _worse._ ”

 “He’s quite popular with the crew, you know,” adds Carol, and her bright, teasing smile is very unfair considering she’s trying to make Jim seem like some kind of supernatural being who can return from the dead at will. “I think you’re right; it would be a shame not to thank Tibby for his efforts.”

“Please don’t call it that,” Jim groans, a hand flying up to rub at his temple as the women share a laugh at his expense. He wonders, briefly, if this is what Bones feels like. He straightens shortly after, however, doing his best to get his face to looking something close to serious again. “So you’ll be returning to your roots, then?”

“Hanging up the weapons specialty? Gladly.”

“So I guess this is the last we’ll be seeing you for a while, hm? It’s lab time, and all that?”

There’s no trace of shyness, only warmth when she replies, “Actually, Captain, I was hoping for your permission aboard the  _Enterprise_ , once it’s fit to fly again. Only for a little while, that is, and only if you’ll have me.”

“I’d be happy to.” Uhura’s eying him suspiciously, but surprisingly, his intentions are entirely innocent. To prove it, he adds, “You’d be a welcome addition to the team, Dr. Marcus, and I’m sure the rest of the science officers would be happy to assist you with your research.”

“Thank you, I’d love that.”

“It can even be longer than a little while, assuming the rest of my senior officers are on board with that.”

Uhura certainly doesn’t look like she takes issue to it, though in truth Jim doubts any of them would. Whatever Spock’s weird animosity was toward her during the previous mission has dissipated entirely, though Jim can’t exactly put a finger on why, or what brought about the hostility in the first place.  _Vulcans_.

Despite that, Carol’s smile is a small one as she shakes her head. “I’m afraid I would only need to stay on as long as it takes to get to the planet Regula, whenever it’s convenient for you to head to that system. My father had a research station posted there, and I plan to commandeer it in the name of regenerative science.”

It’s Jim’s turn to smile this time. “Fair enough. We’ll make it to Regula sometime within the five years of our mission, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way, Captain.”

It’s not until later, once Jim gets his wish and actually gets bag-duty after all, that he leans over to Carol inside of the crowded shuttle station and asks, “What do you think you’ll call it, once your research is complete? I’ll have to know what to look for in a few years when you get testing started.” He pauses, suddenly smirking. “How about ‘Operation: Rebirth?’ ‘Planet Phoenix?’ Or the ‘Kirk Effect?’ That’s better. I’m particularly invested in that one. Or maybe—”

“I was thinking Project Genesis,” Carol interrupts smoothly.

Jim’s eyebrows do their best to meet his hairline. “That’s awfully ambitious of you, doctor.”

But the woman isn't daunted in the least, a confident smile slipping across her beautiful face. “Well, of course, Captain Kirk. Are we not meant to, as you would say, boldly go?”


End file.
